


dragon ink, haircuts and silver tongues

by delta_trevino



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Quarantine and Roommates, Domestic Fluff, Haircuts, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Tension, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_trevino/pseuds/delta_trevino
Summary: “We don’t have time to make out, Yuuji.” Yamaguchi grins at his boyfriend and his lips still imprinted with Yamaguchi’s bites.“Darn it.” Terushima sticks out his tongue. A flash of silver. “And there’s no way I can convince you?”Or, Yamaguchi wants a haircut, Terushima wants a tattoo and words are much prettier and less fragile on the skin of your lover.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Terushima Yuuji/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	dragon ink, haircuts and silver tongues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steupts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steupts/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terushima cuts Yamaguchi's hair in their apartment as they discuss tattoos, Kuroo and Tsukki, and they kiss. Well, Terushima tries to and Yamaguchi teases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so Step made a fabulous au a while back with teruyama and i couldn't get them out of my head so here we are. here's their [carrd](https://steupts.carrd.co/) go show them some love!
> 
> scales of intensity: 
> 
> fluff: 7/10  
> angst: 0/10  
> lemon: 2.5/10
> 
> tw: mention of scissors, implied needles for tattoos, piercings

“I’m going to miss this.” Terushima pulls back, a hand wrapped in Yamaguchi’s overgrown hair. “Sure you don’t wanna keep it?” 

“Too bothersome.” Yamaguchi‘s back digs into the font of their sink, which is covered in hair products and precariously balanced scissors. “And I’m running out of hair elastics.” Right now, he’s got three stacked on his wrist, but they’re more for when Terushima when he forgets them than for Yamaguchi. 

“There’s a drug store down the road, Freckles.”

“We don’t have time to make out, Yuuji.” Yamaguchi grins at his boyfriend and his lips still imprinted with Yamaguchi’s bites. 

“Darn it.” Terushima sticks out his tongue. A flash of silver. “And there’s no way I can convince you?” 

“Cut my hair, and then we’ll talk.” Yamaguchi’s not as weak-kneed as he was seven months ago for Terushima’s devil smile and wicked tongue piercing. “Okay?” 

Terushima groans, scrunching Yamaguchi’s hair behind his head. He pulls out the hair elastic Yamaguchi uses to put up his hair. “The things I do for you, honestly.” 

“Hey,” Yamaguchi fires back. “This is practice for you too.” Since quarantine started, Terushima’s had only a handful of shifts in the salon.

“I know, I know.” Terushima steps away from Yamaguchi and gives him a once over. “Take your shirt and pants off. I’m going to get a towel.” Terushima darts back into their creaking hallway for a towel.

“No foreplay?”

“Don’t tease. You just turned me down.”

“I said later.” Yamaguchi peels off his white shirt. He turners around and examines his hair in the long mirror above the sink. It’s slightly longer than shoulder length, grazing his collarbone. 

“We need new wallpaper,” Yamaguchi says when Terushima comes back with a white towel and an empty product bottle full of water.

“You’ve been saying that since we moved in here.” Their apartment’s a fixer-upper, with cracks in the wall and an uneven paint job around the crown moulding. Everything they have clashes, from Terushima’s drums for his band to Yamaguchi’s knitting supplies and odd bits of electronic pieces he has for fun. 

“We should just paint them white.” Sadly, they can’t do that without the landlord’s approval and their landlord doesn’t take too kindly to them after the fire alarm went off twice in one day. In Terushima’s defence, he read the brownie recipe wrong.

“What? No disgusting daffodils?” Right now, it’s a revolting yellow shade with faded daffodils, covered in too many stains from the previous tenants. It makes the small bathroom feel even more crowded. 

“Ugh, no.” Yamaguchi sits on the edge of the bathtub, facing their hallway. “I can do that.” Yamaguchi spies the hairbrush in Terushima’s hand. 

“This is practice for me, Tadashi.” Terushima grins and climbs into the bathtub lined with a cut open recycling bag. “I’ll do it.” 

Yamaguchi hums. “Okay.” A second later he feels Terushima’s fingers in his hair, teasing out the folds and knots. He’ll miss this part about having long hair.

“So about 2 or 3 inches, right?” Terushima uses the brush. 

“Yeah, like—” Yamaguchi forgets Terushima’s working behind him and turns around. “Here.” Yamaguchi mimics cutting off a lower section of his hair. 

Terushima laughs. 

“Whoops.” Yamaguchi turns back around. 

“It’ll be easier to cut your hair if it’s not moving.” Terushima resumes brushing behind him. 

“I know.” Yamaguchi smiles. “It was only a second.” 

Terushima shakes his head and Yamaguchi can picture the grin on his face. “A second is all it takes for me to—” Terushima pretends to cut Yamaguchi’s hair close to his head with his fingers. 

“Then I could sue you.” 

“For what,” Terushima snorts. “Appearance vandalism?” 

“Exactly.”

“Right, because they’ll take that from the guy with the tattoos.” Yamaguchi eyes the llama on his ankle against the bathroom tiles, and the roman numerals around his left wrist. Tattoos are his thing, while piercings are Terushima’s. 

Terushima’s fingers trace the outline of the inked dragon under his hair. Its tail wraps around the nape of Yamaguchi’s neck, swirling down his spine. The wings were particularly painful when he got them inked.

“I want one of these,” Terushima says. 

“A dragon?” 

“Well, who doesn’t. But I want a tattoo.”

“Mhmm.” Yamaguchi remembers not to nod. “Let me do it.” On top of his electrical job, he’s a tattoo apprentice. After graduating college and getting a steady job with a local company, Yamaguchi applied to the tattoo parlour that had done his for the past years. After seeing some of his flash designs and precise handiwork that came with handling wires and not electrocuting himself, they hired him.

“No, I’ll go to someone else, Tadashi.” Terushima’s voice drips with sarcasm. 

“Just making sure.” 

“Pass me the towel.” Terushima gestures to the towel hanging over the side of the sink. Yamaguchi passes it to him, moving his head as little as possible. 

“What do you want as a tattoo?” Yamaguchi asks as Terushima wraps the towel around his bare back and over his shoulders. 

“A window,” Terushima says. “Or one of those small ghosts. For my sisters.” 

Yamaguchi hums. Terushima’s step sisters love ghosts and Halloween. Even though it’s a very western holiday with certain traditions, they dress up and get Terushima to pretend to give them chocolates from different houses, or in lieu of sweets, melon bread. Yamaguchi went with Terushima last year. 

Yamaguchi also likes drawing ghosts on Terushima’s skin. He doodles on Terushima’s calves and arms for fun, marking Terushima’s skin with drawings of sailboats and waves, tiny aliens and ladybugs. Right now, if Yamaguchi’s not mistaken there’s a devil on Terushima’s calf and a quote on the other one.

Terushima sprays Yamaguchi’s hair with water, droplets flying onto the towel and his neck. Yamaguchi shivers. 

“Stay still, Freckles.” 

His _voice._ Okay, that’s playing dirty. 

”Don’t tease, Yuuji.” 

Terushima laughs. 

“You have a one-track mind, you know that right?” Yamaguchi says.

“It’s not my fault you’re so hot.” 

“It is.” 

Terushima laughs again, and Yamaguchi wants to turn around and record it somehow, although he knows a recording won’t do it justice. 

“Comb.” Terushima holds out his hand. Yamaguchi grabs it off the side of the sink. “Thanks.” 

Starting from his roots, Terushima combs Yamaguchi’s hair out. Focussed hands, straightening the locks to cut. 

“Here.” Terushima passes Yamaguchi the comb again, and Yamaguchi balances it on the side of the bathtub. “You’re lazy.” 

“Efficient.” 

“Lazy.” 

“So, this good?” Terushima’s fingers press into the nape of Yamaguchi’s neck as an indicator. Just above the tail of the dragon and around his chin. “Too long?” 

“No,” Yamaguchi says. “That’s good.” 

“No going back now.” Yamaguchi can hear the smile in Terushima’s voice as he plucks the scissors from Yamaguchi’s hands. 

“Yeah,” Yamaguchi says, too much breath in one word. It’s just a haircut, but Terushima’s giving it to him and it’s exciting. Quarantine really emphasizes how exciting little mundane things are. Restaurants are practically a myth by now.

A metallic snip. 

Terushima leans over and drops the hair scraps in their small garbage bin. Yamaguchi’s eyes dart to the dark green tips now lopped off his head. 

“Hey, Tadashi.” Terushima grins and places a hand on Yamaguchi’s shoulder. “If you don’t stay still your hair’s going to be lopsided.” 

“It’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Yamaguchi looks forward again, gripping the edge of the tub. His feet brush their overflowing laundry basket. 

“0/10 rating for the customer.” 

Yamaguchi laughs, and he knows his hair moves a tiny bit. Can you blame him? 

“Negative one.” 

“Yuuji.” 

“Tadashi.” 

Another snip. More discarded hair, Terushima slowly working his way around Yamaguchi’s head. It already feels lighter. Yamaguchi wonders if he should’ve grown it out eight or ten inches and then donated it to cancer. Probably not, since hair is a hassle. Now that he’s had it, Yamaguchi has massive respect for people with long hair. Even Terushima, who can gather his mop into a fountain on the top of his head since he let his undercut grow out.

The pile of hair in the garbage grows as the clock ticks, Terushima cutting in broad strokes.

“You wanted layers, right?” Terushima asks, fiddling with the hair on his left side.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” 

“By the way,” Yamaguchi says, “Tsukki says he’s sorry about the other day again.”

Terushima laughs. “Are you kidding me? It was hilarious.” 

Tsukishima’s boyfriend Kuroo called them when he was drunk off Tsukishima’s phone, thinking they were Kenma, and ranted for three hours. Terushima had thought it was the best thing since sliced bread—grade-A entertainment worth popcorn and the big screen—until Tsukishima had gotten home and yanked the phone from Kuroo. 

“Tell Tetsurou I won’t reveal his secrets just yet.” Terushima’s grinning, Yamaguchi knows. Let’s just say Kuroo revealed more information about himself than he probably even knew existed. Three hours is a long time to expose yourself.

“I don’t know if he even remembers.” Kuroo hadn’t even registered Yamaguchi telling him this was the wrong number, and to check his texts because the real Kenma was probably texting him. 

“Sweet blackmail.” 

“Tsukki tried to pry it out of me,” Yamaguchi says. He mimes sealing his lips. “I didn’t tell him.” 

“Tsukishima would have a field day.” 

“Oh, yes. Kuroo would suffer so much.” Yamaguchi can just imagine Tsukishima going for Kuroo’s head. He laughs.

“Maybe we should tell Tsukishima then,” Terushima entertains. “For kicks.” 

“I do not want to be a homewrecker, just for kicks.” Especially not for Tsukishima, who has a matching llama on his ankle too. They got them for their twentieth anniversary of being friends.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

Yamaguchi sighs. 

“Maybe I’m the toxic one here.”

“Mmm.” For all his bark, there’s no bite. Terushima’s as harmless as a fly when it comes to things like this. He likes playing matchmaker, actually. And even though Yamaguchi had his doubts about him when they first started dating, Terushima’s proven himself. He makes Yamaguchi happy. 

“I’m doing your layers now.” Terushima turns the scissors on a greater slant and begins layering Yamaguchi’s hair. A little shorter at the front to give it texture.

“If you’re serious about a tattoo I’m pretty sure we have an opening next week.” Yamaguchi wonders if he should get _Fly_ behind his right ear, where he brings up his hand to serve. The idea’s been floating in his head since he got his first tattoo; since volleyball—not to sound cheesy or anything—changed his life.

“Let’s go,” Terushima says, the glint of mischievous leaking through his voice. 

“We can pick out a design beforehand.” Yamaguchi wants to spend as least time possible in the studio, even though it’s top-tier with its sanity and they only work every other day. 

“I’m going to draw it on with a pen for a few days to see if I like it.” 

“Good idea.” Yamaguchi asks his clients to consider that too, since pen is temporary and a tattoo will go with you to your grave. “Let me do it.” 

“You’re clingy.” 

Yamaguchi bristles. “It’ll be good practice,” he says.

“Right.” Terushima isn’t convinced. He knows Yamaguchi likes doodling on his skin in their early mornings, while watching a movie, all the damn time.

“Thank you.” The scissors are working around Yamaguchi’s ear now, clipping ends haphazardly to layer it. “I’ll reserve a spot in the evening.” 

“Wow. Look at us. Leaving our apartment.” The only times they leave are for grocery shopping and drives around the neighbourhood when Terushima gets antsy. Yamaguchi’s a homebody so this doesn’t bother him as much but when he does miss the sunsets, Terushima will drive them to the high school make-out spot.

“Crazy.” 

“I wish my hair was as healthy as yours.” 

“It would be if you didn’t dye it.” 

“I stopped that, and it’s still thinning.” Terushima stopped dying his hair after doing it once in quarantine in addition to growing out his undercut. Now it’s a weird ombre, the roots a stark contrast from the blonde ends. 

“It doesn’t happen overnight.” 

Terushima huffs. “Maybe I should go bald.” 

“Absolutely not,” Yamaguchi says. 

“You’d still love me, wouldn’t you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Freckles!” 

“I only love your hair,” Yamaguchi laughs. “The personality is just a bonus.” 

“I have to confess we’re in the same boat then,” Terushima says. 

“You’re cutting my hair though, so you must not care that much.” 

“Or I’m planning to break up with you.” 

“That’s assuming you’ll beat me to the punch.” The first time Terushima had joked around breaking up Yamaguchi had almost cried. Now, it’s routine.

“I have to wait until you give me a tattoo.” 

“So I have a week,” Yamaguchi assesses. 

“Or less. It depends when you schedule the appointment.” 

“Right.” 

“Okay, I’m done with the layers. It’s finished,” Terushima says. “Turn around.” 

Yamaguchi does, and is surprised when two lips press against his immediately. It’s an awkward angle and he almost falls into the bathtub but then Terushima steadies him with a hand. 

“Don’t break up with me, Tadashi.” Terushima’s still self-assured; dropped scissors in the bottom of the bathtub and the towel slipping off Yamaguchi’s shoulders. 

Yamaguchi laughs. “Of course not.” 

Terushima pulls him in for another kiss. 

“Wait—“ Yamaguchi lifts his legs over the tub and stands up. The recycling bag crinkles under his feet and the towel falls. 

“Smart.” 

Yamaguchi grins. “Short.” He’s incrementally taller than Terushima. 

Terushima’s eyes flash and then Yamaguchi’s being kissed with edges and scissors and metal. Heat runs in pulses all over Yamaguchi’s body, especially his waistband when Terushima’s hands are slung over. 

Yamaguchi knows the second Terushima sticks his tongue in his mouth it’s game over, but he yields anyway. Tongue piercings could easily classify as a threat to humanity. Or at least to Yamaguchi. 

Yamaguchi kisses with tongue back, some teeth and a hand gripping the side of Terushima’s neck, where he wants to mark with hickies and then outline in pen. 

Terushima runs the piercing over Yamaguchi’s mouth, in the way he knows makes Yamaguchi keel. So Yamaguchi fits his hand to Terushima’s throat and presses, just a little. 

“Tadashi—” Terushima pulls back, eyes blown. 

“You said I need to shower, right?” Yamaguchi grins. He tilts his head to the hallway. 

Terushima makes a frustrated noise. “You’re such a fucking tease.” 

“I know.” 

“Just give it to me.” 

“And where’s the fun in that?” 

“You said later. It’s later now.” 

“You’re so goddamn horny. Let me shower, Yuuji.” 

“Together?” 

Yamaguchi looks at the mess of the bathtub, pieces of his hair and the furrowed recycling bag. “No.” 

“I hate you so much.” 

“Mmm.” Reluctantly, Terushima takes his hands off Yamaguchi’s hips and steps out of the tub. “I’ll be in the living room. Drinking and then sobbing to Kuroo about my boyfriend.” 

“Have fun,” Yamaguchi says, only to get a death stare. 

“Look in the mirror and tell me the haircut’s good before I leave.” 

Yamaguchi laughs. “I’m sure it’s fine.” He peels off the recycling bag, folding in the hair and stuffs it in the garbage bag. That’s a lot of hair. 

“Then I’m leaving.” Yamaguchi pulls off the hair elastic around his wrist and sets them on the bathroom sink’s edge so he doesn’t lose them. His lips still tingle. It’s fun to tease Terushima. “I won’t miss you.”

“Okay.” Yamaguchi watches, amused as Terushima clumps down their hallway. 

He knows Terushima is going to look up tattoo designs for Yamaguchi to practice drawing on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started as an innocent few k and now i'm thinking it'll be a few chapters
> 
> *shrugs* what can you do


End file.
